


Use your fingers on me

by sonotadream



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Blow Jobs, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 04:19:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1168586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonotadream/pseuds/sonotadream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is stressed and tense. Grantaire has magic hands and knows a technique that could help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Use your fingers on me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme, prompt can be found [here](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/13775.html?thread=13120207#t13120207)
> 
> I don't know much about massages, except for a quick google search, so I apologize if there are any major inaccuracies in this.

"Enjolras, this is intervention."

Enjolras almost choked on the pill he was trying to swallow and stared at his friends, sitting in the living room. "What?"

Combeferre and Courfeyrac stared back. Grantaire gave him a cheeky little wave. As interventions went, this one was rather low key. "Shouldn't all my friends and family be present for this?"

"Yes, but everyone else is busy with exams and work," Combeferre explained.

"So I only get the two guys who live here and Grantaire."

"Who is currently free of the tyranny of pursuing a superior education or a paying job," Grantaire said, with a smug air that Enjolras choose to ignore.

"He's also here to offer his expertise," Courfeyrac supplied.

"Because his interventions always went so well," Enjolras shoot back.

"They were splendid. I do have a lot of advice about what not to do. For instance, don't try to prove you don't have a problem by running away and ending the night getting your stomach pumped in the ER, it's-"

Courfeyrac shut him up with a punch in the shoulder. "Your other expertise."

Enjolras decided not to address Grantaire's little speech - nothing good ever came of it - and simply to move the conversation forward, before his headache got any worse. "Look, I can give you 15 minutes until the painkillers kick in and I go back to work. What do you want?"

“First, we need to talk about how you’ve been overmedicating yourself,” Combeferre started. 

“With ibuprofen?”

“Yes.” Combeferre pointed at Courfeyrac, “We noticed the pills disappearing and I think there’s probably an underlying condition you’re ignoring and there’s only so much the painkillers can do.”

“Meaning what? You think I’m addicted to over the counter pills.”

Grantaire chuckled. Combeferre gave him a stern look.

“No,” Courfeyrac reassured Enjolras, “but you have been stressed and overworked and not taking very good care of yourself for these past weeks.”

“Like everyone else,” Enjolras replied, indignantly. “It’s the final year. I can’t stop and relax this close to graduation just because I’m a little tired.”

“You’re more than a little tired.”

“And maybe you can’t stop, but you need to take a break.”

“You know it will be the best in the long run.”

“Will make you more productive, even.”

“Don’t make me quote the studies.”

“Yeah, don’t make him quote the studies,” Grantaire interrupted Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s synchronized admonition. Combeferre had the air of someone willing to cite studies up to their publishing date, page and printing press.

Enjolras sighed and gave up. It would be quicker. And, he had to concede, probably helpful. “Fine, what are you suggesting?”

His friends’ relief at the fast resolution was visible. 

Combeferre smiled and said, “Massage therapy.”

Enjolras was not so content. “You want me to go to the trouble of making an appointment and waste at least an hour-“

“Or you could see someone closer.” Courfeyrac pointed at Grantaire with a flourish.

Grantaire raised his hand. “Hello, I’m a licensed massage therapist. Sort of,” he added with a shrug.

Enjolras had to stare for a moment. “Since when?”

“About two weeks. The lovely people at the unemployment office thought it was a good complement too my skills profile. And the teacher said I have magic hands.” He did another little wave with both hands. “These two thought it was a good idea.”

Enjolras gulped. He wasn’t sure if Grantaire’s hands all over him was the best or the worst idea ever. It was very likely Courfeyrac’s, if anything.

Enjolras rubbed his temples. He couldn’t think of any reason he could give for refusing, besides stubbornness. “Fine, massage me.”

“Excellent,” Combeferre and Courfeyrac exclaimed. They stood up, leaving space in the couch for Enjolras, and Grantaire to scramble to his feet, surprised by their coordination.

Enjolras sat on the couch. Grantaire, after a moment’s hesitation, sat back again. He put his hands on Enjolras’ shoulders and turned him, so they were back to front. “Okay, let’s start. Where do you feel more tension?”

“Mostly neck and shoulders.”

Grantaire started to apply pressure over Enjolras’ back. “Yeah, you definitely have some knots here.” Enjolras wasn’t sure if they were there before.

“Shouldn’t he take his shirt off?”

Enjolras glared at Courfeyrac. Grantaire coughed behind him. “It’s fine for now.”

“Just trying to help,” Courfeyrac said.

“You’re not,” Combeferre replied.

“Helping or trying to?”

Meanwhile, Grantaire moved his hands up to Enjolras’ neck. He tried really hard not to clench his jaw. “Wow, your neck is really stiff.”

“You don’t say.”

“Courfeyrac, shouldn’t you be studying?”

“This is more fun.”

“And your jaw it’s even worse.” Grantaire seemed to be focusing on his task instead of getting distracted by the bickering duo. It was a nice change of pace.

“What’s wrong with my jaw?”

“It feels like you keep all your tension in here.” Grantaire pressed two fingers to both sides of Enjolras’ face. “Open and close, please.”

Enjolras felt a bit ridiculous, especially with the audience: Combeferre was watching him like he was a guinea pig and Courfeyrac was memorizing every detail for when he told the story later. It was going to be an embarrassing one.

“You have a lot a tension in here, it’s uncanny.” Grantaire had stopped pressing down, but he let his hands rest on Enjolras’ face for a moment after speaking.

“He also grinds his teeth while sleeping.” All eyes turned to Courfeyrac. “I needed to borrow a book the other night and didn’t want to wake you up,” he offered as explanation.

“So, you just walked him and took what you needed,” Enjolras protested.

“Guys, let’s not do this in front of the guest,” Grantaire interrupted, “please?”

All eyes turned to him. They had had plenty more arguments in more public spaces about their domestic troubles, but Grantaire didn’t look pleased at being there. Maybe because it was just him and there was no one for him to joke with.

“Can we move on?” Combeferre asked. Courfeyrac and Enjolras nodded. “Grantaire, you were saying?”

“Er, yes. You have a lot of tension in the jaw area. That, along with the grinding and the headaches, suggest you really need to relax.”

“Is that your professional opinion?”

“Yes, it is,” Grantaire said, with a certain pride. Enjolras smiled, amused. That was also a nice change of pace.

“Look, there’s this technique that I think might help. It’s called intraoral massage and-“

“Wait, did you say intra oral, as in...?” Courfeyrac asked.

“Yes. Part of it includes massaging the jaw muscles from inside the mouth,” Grantaire explained.

“As in, your fingers inside his mouth?”

“It’s not as bad as it sounds, promise.”

“Bad isn’t the word I would use.”

“Courfeyrac, don’t go there,” admonished Combeferre.

“Dirty. That’s the word I would use. Dirty. In a good eye,” Courfeyrac added at everyone’s exasperated looks. Or amused, in Grantaire’s case. 

“It’s a perfectly sound idea. Massaging from inside the mouth allows better access to the masticating muscles,” Combeferre said.

Combeferre was always trustworthy and a medical student, so Enjolras figured he knew what he was talking about, even if the whole idea sounded a bit weird to him. 

“Yes, okay, let’s do it.” Enjolras looked at Courfeyrac, who wanted to tease more, and decided to lose the audience, “Let’s just go somewhere more private.” He stood up, grabbed Grantaire by the arm and dragged him to his room.

He heard Courfeyrac complain and Combeferre complain about his complaint, but he ignored them. He realized the moment he closed the door that he was about to be alone with Grantaire for an intimate massage and he wished he had given it some thought beforehand.

“So, do you want to start?” Thankfully, Grantaire interrupted the silence before it got too awkward.

“Sure. How do you want to do it?”

Grantaire looked around, taking in the disorganized desk, the too full bookcase and the unmade bed in the corner. Enjolras tried not to feel too self-conscious – Courfeyrac’s room was usually worse.

“Why don’t you lie in the bed, head to the feet side, and I start with some external stimulation.”

“Stimulation?” Enjolras couldn’t resist raising an eyebrow.

“Not like that!” Grantaire laughed, which helped dissipate some tension. “Careful or you’ll start to sound like Courfeyrac.”

Enjolras pushed the bed covers up and lied on the bed. Grantaire kneeled on the floor behind him and returned his hands to Enjolras’ face. 

“First, I’m going to work the temporalis.”

“The what?”

“The muscle here.” Grantaire rubbed his hands over Enjolras’ temples. “Then the forehead, the cheeks, under the jaw...” Grantaire moved his hands along and trailed off for a moment. He shook his head and continued, “Sounds good?”

“Sure.” Enjolras swallowed the lump on his throat.

It was weird being in this position. He could see Grantaire’s face very close to his. Even upside down, the focused expression was evident. 

He also asked Enjolras to move his jaw from side to side and front to back at some points. All the while, he kept his fingers on Enjolras face, pressing down, massaging, even caressing his hair.

Well, his hairline. Grantaire kept a running commentary, explaining it was meant to ease tension lines. Enjolras had to take his word for it, but it felt nice and Grantaire’s voice was soothing.

And it was working. Enjolras could feel the tension leaving him, his headache fading.

“Feeling better?” Grantaire asked, his fingers pressing under his jaw.

Enjolras just hummed in agreement.

“Nothing to say?”

Enjolras failed to glare at him. “It feels great. Thank you, seriously.”

“Told you, magic hands. Do you wanna keep going? There are some muscles that could use the extra work, but if you’re busy...”

“Yes, keep going.” Enjolras frowned, “Are you really going to stick your fingers in my mouth?”

“All for a good cause. And only if you’re comfortable,” he added, more serious.

Enjolras hesitated before answering. “Do it. If you think it will help.”

“Oh, you trust my opinion!”

“Of course I do.”

Grantaire gave him something of a surprised look, like he didn’t entirely believe him. “Let’s start, then. Before you change your mind.”

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Don’t see what’s so weird. You have formation in the area, don’t you?”

“A six months intensive course. It hardly makes me an expert.” Grantaire stood up, searching for something. “Moving on. I should be wearing gloves for this.”

Enjolras grimaced. “Must you? I hate the taste of rubber.”

“Oh, do you?”

It took Enjolras a second to understand what Grantaire meant.

“God, not like that. I was thinking of my dentist, she wears rubber gloves and... Stop looking at me like that,” he scolded Grantaire, who had a far too amused expression on his face.

Grantaire chuckled. “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. Let me just go wash my hands.”

Enjolras pointed at the second bedroom door, leading to a shared lavatory.

“You know,” Grantaire said, speaking loudly enough to be heard over the sound of running water, “you make it too easy.”

“What?”

“The teasing.” The water stopped running and Grantaire leaned on the doorframe, shaking his hands dry. “Every time you give a clue you have a sex life, one feels obligated to comment.”

Enjolras shook his head. “That’s because our society’s relationship with sex is... something bad.”

“That’s it?” Grantaire asked, clearly surprised at his curtness.

“I’m trying to relax, aren’t I? Rants are hardly relaxing, no matter how appropriate.”

“Imagine that.” Grantaire seemed still genuinely surprised. “I always thought you considered it therapeutic.” He sat on the bed, near Enjolras head, and received an actual glare this time. Grantaire was unimpressed. “What I wanted to say was that it’s nice you have a hobby that doesn’t involve tearing down the government.”

Enjolras huffed. “I do other things. Only not when I’m three weeks from my last university exam ever. I can’t get distracted now.”

“And after that it will be work and it will be even harder to find the time to relax. And you might end up grinding your teeth into nothing.”

Grantaire was being unusually serious and caring. Enjolras was touched. And not sure how to return the sentiment. “Thanks for your concern, but I will be fine.”

Grantaire shrugged it off. “Whatever. I’m just repeating what I heard in rehab, it’s hardly important.” Just like that, the moment was over and Grantaire was back to his more usual self. “Shall we start?” Grantaire waved his index finger in front of Enjolras’ face.

Enjolras looked at it, a bit wary. “What, exactly, are you going to do?” he asked. 

“I’ll put my finger between cheek and teeth and massage.” Seeing that Enjolras wasn’t entirely convinced, he added, “Don’t worry, we’ll go slow, okay? And it’s been working so far.”

Enjolras had to concede on that. He nodded and Grantaire started. 

It was weird, but not in a bad way. Nothing at all like in the dentist, which was Enjolras only point of reference for “people putting their fingers in my mouth.” 

Furthermore, Grantaire was avoiding his teeth and concentrating in the cheek, pressing and massaging from inside and out.

He asked Enjolras to move his jaw again. That was still a bit ridiculous, but Enjolras didn’t mind. He hadn’t expected this entire process to be as soothing and relaxing as it was proving to be and Enjolras was enjoying himself immensely. So much, he forgot about any lingering weirdness. 

He focused, instead, in the feeling of stress and tension oozing out. He could feel his jaw relax, his entire body relax, and Grantaire’s finger, sliding in and out, became a focal point.

At some point, Grantaire had to lean over him to reach from the other side. “This is awkward, sorry.”

Enjolras made a non-committal murmur. He rather liked having Grantaire draped all over him, both the pressure and warmth of another body sending shivers through him. He wasn’t sure telling Grantaire so would be a good idea.

The problem was he didn’t know where he and Grantaire stood in regards to what they had between them. Enjolras used to think that everything would be sorted out when he had the time. However, in between protests, classes and exams for him and meltdowns, rehab and putting his life back together for Grantaire, the opportunity had never presented itself.

Until his friends had arranged things so Grantaire would stick his fingers in Enjolras mouth and made him feel better than he had in a long time.

So much better than...

Shit.

“What’s wrong?” Grantaire pulled away abruptly and looked at Enjolras with worry. “Was it too much?”

“No. Everything’s fine. I, uh, remembered something. Are we done?” Enjolras willed Grantaire to be done and ready to leave. Or not leave but notice his state. Or don’t notice his state.

See, Enjolras did have sex. Just not for a very fucking long time.

All the intimate touching was bound to have an effect – namely, an erection. Enjolras wished it wasn’t such a noticeable one, in a day he was wearing the tight jeans that had belonged to Courfeyrac at some point, and with Grantaire standing right there.

Sitting.

Whatever. He was screwed. He just didn’t know if he wanted it to remain a metaphor.

“Almost done, you’ll be back to your work soon.” Grantaire was giving him a weird look. Probably because, to him, everything was fine and normal. “Okay, for that last one I’m gonna have to reach the back of your mouth, and you need to adjust your position. Lift up your feet and... Oh!”

And of course Grantaire had to reach back to put Enjolras’ feet in position and of course he would notice...

Enjolras hid his face behind his hands in shame, which wasn’t helpful at all, and Grantaire just went on babbling.

“Fine, this is normal, a completely normal reaction, nothing to be upset about, happens to a lot of people. We talked about this in school, keep going like nothing happened, and, uh.” 

Enjolras peeked from between his fingers. Grantaire was half turned away, his hand on Enjolras’ knees, eyes fixed on his crotch. Apparently determined to follow his own advice, he turned to Enjolras and asked, “How’s your gag reflex?” Enjolras watched the blood drain from his face, fascinated with the notion Grantaire realized what he was saying as he was saying it and still couldn’t stop himself. 

“Fuck no, I didn’t mean-, I-, this is harder than-.” Grantaire groaned. He drew his hand away from Enjolras’ knee, suddenly realizing he was still touching him. 

Enjolras had to laugh. At Grantaire’s half-surprised, half-terrified expression, he said, “You’re usually more proud of your bad puns.” Enjolras sat up and framed Grantaire’s face in his hands. “You also had your fingers in my mouth all afternoon.”

“Not all-“

Enjolras cut him off with a kiss. It was sloppy and wild, very much unlike him, but, perhaps, perfectly suited for Grantaire. Their tongues clashed, their noses were pressed together. Grantaire tasted faintly of cigarettes and peppermint and it was wonderful. 

They were soon out of breath. Enjolras rested their foreheads together for a moment, enjoying what he could see of the dazed and amazed expression in Grantaire’s face.

Enjolras was done wasting time.

“Grantaire, drop your pants.”

“Sure.” Enjolras watched as Grantaire easily complied. He bit his bottom lip in a flash of nervousness to be squashed right away. Grantaire wasn’t nervous.

He could be in a state of shock, but he wasn’t nervous.

Enjolras helped him pull his jeans down, sliding off the bed in the same motion, until he was kneeling in front of Grantaire. There was more than a hint of expectation on his face, and a shy smile that made Enjolras’ heart beat faster.

He didn’t look away as he leaned forward and sucked the head of Grantaire’s cock, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

Enjolras grinned and swallowed a bit more, going slowly down the shaft.

He would have to thank Grantaire properly for the massage later, his jaw hadn’t been this loose in years. 

He continued to bob his head up and down, increasing the pace and carefully observing how Grantaire reacted. Enjolras licked the head, sucking the sensitive tip. Grantaire gasped and closed his eyes.

Enjolras could feel how tense Grantaire’s thighs were beneath his hands. He pressed his nails lightly to get Grantaire’s attention.

“Are you holding back?” Enjolras leaned back, sitting on his heels. “Because I prefer if you don’t.”

Grantaire looked at him for a long moment, eyebrows slightly raised. Enjolras grinned back and waited.

Grantaire didn’t disappoint. He stood up, gently grabbed Enjolras by the hair and pulled him towards his cock. Enjolras licked the entire length content at Grantaire’s blissful expression. He had to scratch him again to get him to start moving.

Enjolras closed his eyes, focusing in the feeling of Grantaire sliding in and out of his mouth. He resisted the urge of getting him to thrust rougher and harder. There would time for that later. 

Enjolras undid his jeans and stroked his prick lazily, just wanting to take the edge off. Grantaire’s hand rested on his head, caressing his hair like it had earlier.

Enjolras concentrated in Grantaire, the weight of him, his gasping breath, the irregular pace indicating he was close to release... Enjolras got little warning before Grantaire came, filling his mouth with hot, bitter fluid.

Enjolras watched Grantaire fall back into the bed. He stroked himself harder, his orgasm suddenly an urgent matter. He came rather quickly, somehow avoiding staining his clothes.

He took a couple of calming breathes and stood up, cleaned his hand and went to sit next to Grantaire. 

He had his eyes closed, still out of breath. Enjolras redid his jeans, watching closely for a reaction. None came.

Enjolras lied down next to him, wondering if he should be worried. Grantaire wasn’t one to be this quiet, or this still. He likely only needed a little encouragement.

“I was thinking about what you said.” Grantaire hummed, acknowledging he could hear him. Enjolras continued, “That I need a hobby.” Grantaire hummed again, with a slight intonation that might signify a question. “I think it’s a good idea.”

“Uh.” Grantaire opened his eyes. He was still dazed and satisfied but there was a hint of something that could be worry in his eyes.

Enjolras snuggled closer, his head on Grantaire’s shoulder and continued undeterred. “Yes, a relaxing distraction would be a good thing.”

“You want me to be your relaxing distraction?”

It was hard to tell which part Grantaire was more distressed by, but Enjolras was feeling very relaxed indeed and saw nothing to worry about. ”Yes.”

“Have you considered what a disaster that could be?”

Enjolras could feel Grantaire’s eyes blazing him. He returned his gaze, unperturbed. “Yes,” was the simple and obvious answer. “But you’ll have to wait until after the exams for something serious.”

“Well, okay then.” Grantaire might have been aiming for resigned and nonchalant, but he missed by a long shot, the smile on his face betraying him. 

“Good.” Enjolras kissed him, languid and passionate. “It’s a date.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also on [Tumblr](http://sonotadream.tumblr.com), if anyone wants to drop by.


End file.
